Ready When You Are
by Risque Tendencies
Summary: It was the dreary way his eyes were cast that first caught Yokozawa's attention. AU.


**Ready When You Are  
**

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Without a solitary doubt, this job was going to kill him one day.

However, Yokozawa wasn't sure if that was a fate to be concerned about, or one to accept unflinchingly. As hard as it drove him, there were countless times when he genuinely loved the grind. When in the office, he was in his true environment, the place where he excelled, and the place where he threw the passion that wasn't released elsewhere. If not to another human being, the man was codependent to his career.

Business trips were a common assignation. A few local, and the rare one outside of the city grid. Where many of his co-workers dreamed of moving on, buying a house, or settling elsewhere for the change it would introduce into their lives, he felt otherwise. He was constantly active, moving from place to place - even at 'headquarters' Yokozawa was checking in on other floors and departments than his own. Why would he need to move when he saw so much of the exterior world to compensate for having the same apartment nigh on five years?

The answer was 'none.'

Today he was traveling to a town a half an hour's train ride north.

It was a courting session with a new bookstore that had opened in an up-and-coming neighborhood. The business itself was advertised as being an alternative hotspot, the kind that became embedded into the very makeup of the city it ingrained itself into within a year, and stayed for fifty years following. Romanji doled out the sort of atmosphere that set people at ease. It welcomed the elders of the town, allocating a space for them to come out into the world to say hello, to catch up with their peers. It soothed the restless souls of teens and young frantic adults. Herded in small children with their parents by the use of crafty displays placed at a child's eye level in the windows, playing into the very unique world that kids resided in.

The proprietors had only one other location, and from hearsay, they were not scouting for a third for some time, maybe not ever. This told Yokozawa that similar to the nature of their store, whoever owned Romanji was an individualist. Not necessarily in it for the profit. As a salesman, fundamentally he approached business differently, but he could respect an attitude like that if the person could make it work for themselves. So far it seemed this entrepreneur did.

His purpose for coming here was to encourage the bookseller to feature Marukawa prominently in their displays, and also introduce himself on the company's behalf - it was likely that he would be the field representative that met with the owner every so often, and a working relationship needed to be established. Romanji had been open for a month or two, but was just forming its manga section, having initiated mainly with literature and periodicals. The time was critical.

He would need to form a good impression.

Yokozawa was pleased to discover that the town was smaller than he had predicted, and that instead of dealing with the bother of hailing a taxi, he could feasibly walk the few blocks to the site of the store. The neighborhood it was built in was a revitalization project that had been ongoing for the past decade. Before then it had been a slum, with many abandoned or decrepit buildings polluting the area. The fact that that had been what newcomers had seen if they got off at the main train station had kicked the town in the pants to clean up their front doorstep.

Unlike with some best laid-plans, this remodel seemed to be a success. The area had slowly mellowed, and once the requisite quiet was achieved, enterprise took root. From there on came the residential district, and by now when Yokozawa was seeing it, it seemed like a peaceful place to live. A semi urban haven. Romanji was four streets down from the train depot, and the day was mild, so he didn't need to fear any weather-related impact on his professional appearance.

He walked the distance, moving at a brisk pace. As nice as it was here, he was never one to dawdle and smell the roses. He was here for work, not for a excursion, and his priorities were steadfast. Beat out the competition, and sell tankobon. Rinse and repeat. Work first, then play.

The store itself was homey - red brick like something out of the West with a dark blue tiled roof, creating a contrast that produced a comforting vibe. Nothing big and flashy, just honest.

Yokozawa could sight several novel displays in the window, but not stitch of cardboard, which was unusual. They looked hand made: paper maché and wooden book stands, large posters done in ink bearing the title and author, a review or a synopsis below; key or enticing words were sketched magnified to the rest of the blurb in a bolder width of black. There were one or two people parked out front, scanning the paper to read the words. The businessman realized he hadn't ever seen people so enthused outside a more 'modernly' structured establishment. He inwardly nodded in approval and then made his way toward the entrance.

Once inside, he surveyed the perimeter, trying to locate the manager if he was lucky, or an employee who would lead him to the manager if not.

"You there!" he appealed to the first person donning an apron he came upon. Yokozawa quickly amended his booming tone however, when he took a better look at the 'employee' he had hailed, and realized it was a small girl bearing the uniform smock over her pink cotton romper. The apron seemed to be tailored specifically for her height and he wondered errantly if she was one of the worker's daughters.

The girl had shiny brown hair done up in pigtails on either side of her face, and despite himself, the man was amused by this kid. Had she snuck the apron from somewhere, possibly? She couldn't be more than ten or so at his best guess so she certainly was no actual worker.

"Hello sir, can I help you?" the girl strode over to Yokozawa, possessing a distinctly confident air for her age.

"I don't suppose you know where the manager of this store is, huh?" He didn't know why, but he decided to humor her in her playacting. It was harmless, and she might even surprise him by knowing something.

"Oh, so that's it! My Papa is probably somewhere near the back of the store. He stays there often. I can help you find him if you would like. Um, excuse me. My name is Kirishima Hiyori." Hiyori bowed, holding the pose for a second longer than was customary, probably because she felt she had to compensate for not doing an introduction right away.

"I am Yokozawa Takafumi. Nice to make your acquaintance." Yokozawa made a return prostration. "And yes, it would be helpful if you could. I have some business to discuss with him - I'm from the Marukawa publishing house."

"Yokozawa-san, please follow me. I'll help you find him, just you wait!"

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They made their way in companionable silence up the main thoroughfare of the store, skirting around tables placed in the aisle.

Each had its own special theme, and an array of books that fit under the designation chosen. One was for gardening and botanicals, being that it was spring. The next were new fiction release bestsellers, and the third selection was deemed 'odds and ends.' A number of the books even appeared to be used, which struck Yokozawa as yet another differentiation from the normal bookstore he was used to encountering.

Once nearing the end of the row, they were faced with the option of stairs, or two branches in either direction. There was a loft-style second floor to the business where it seemed there were educational titles and study space for those who needed it, and the rest of the first floor were more novels and reading space. Hiyori led him to the left, where a collection of small tables was set up and a few drink machines resided. Only one person was sitting there, a tall man with tousled brown hair sporting a cup of something got and leaning heavily on the table he was occupying.

It was the dreary way his eyes were cast that first caught Yokozawa's attention.

Mirrored in them was a sense of distraction shot through with a vague melancholy, the mix stirred up choppily as if the man couldn't decide which he felt more prevalently. His brow furrowed as he stared off into the distance, looking but not seeing. The man seemed to be pondering something that had no right or obvious answer. It was truly none of the salesman's concern, but to be confronted with such a tableau was oddly jarring.

"Oh there he is! See, I told you he's always back here. Sometimes he brings coffee, but once in a while it's like this," Hiyori pointed out, her eyes creasing at the remembrance. "I've asked him why but Papa says that he likes time to think in a quiet place, and not to worry about it."

She turned, seeming to remember her audience. "Oh, pardon me, Yokozawa-san, I didn't mean to be so personal! Please don't mind my Papa, okay?"

"You don't need to worry about that, Hiyori-chan. This is a business meeting, nothing more. Personal affairs don't matter."

"Thank you, Yokozawa-san, that is kind. I promise you Papa is very good at the store, so this won't change anything."

Hiyori went ahead of him then, running up to greet her father. At the sight of his daughter, the worn expression vanished, and was replaced with a doting substitute. He stood from his chair and said hello, putting one broad hand on the top of the girl's head and ruffling her hair, mussing it in the middle. She noticed immediately, and frowned.

"Papa! I worked really hard on my hair today; please don't do that to it!" Hiyori insisted, smoothing down the displaced strands in an effort to get it lying properly once more without having to redo the entire style.

"Hiyo-chan will get extra practice at making her hair beautiful because of it. Allow a doting father his vices."

"As long as you don't mess it up more, okay?"

"Deal. If Hiyo-chan continues to work hard in school then I will leave your hair alone, princess."

Hiyori nodded, showing she accepted the compromise. Her eyes then trained back on Yokozawa, who she smiled at before turning to her father once more.

"Papa, this man has business with you, he says. His name is Yokozawa Takafumi-san, from..." she trailed off, realizing that she didn't remember the company name the salesman had provided her with. She slowly revolved, throwing the raven-haired man an imploring glance that he couldn't ignore.

"Marukawa Publishing," Yokozawa added simply, giving a perfunctory bow as he handed over a business card.

"Ah, Kirishima Zen, owner of Romanji, as I am sure you have gathered. Charmed to meet you. How can I assist you this day?"

The brunette smiled luminously at him, and while any normal human would have took it at face value, Yokozawa couldn't help but remember the expression from before. What had that been about, and how was the man able to turn it on and off seemingly at will when whatever he had been mulling over had appeared to affect him so much? Concurrently, why did it even matter? It made no impact on his own life, and doubtfully on their business prospects either, which he now needed to focus on.

"Hiyo, you may go help in the front of the store. Go see if they'll let you move around the picture-books, alright?"

"Yes, Papa." Hiyori flitted off toward another part of the building, with the half relieved, half reluctant look of a child who wanted to be include like an adult, but had little desire to actually hear the things adults talked about.

Yokozawa assimilated into his general pitch mode once he had Kirishima's full attention again, donning the salesman smile and an even tone.

"Kirishima-san, as I am sure you are aware, Marukawa hosts many fine publications of varied genres. Today I am here to talk manga, as I have heard you are preparing to add a section onto your store for these sorts of products. As a business, we would appreciate if you were to display our material in a way that is attractive toward potential customers."

Kirishima inclined his head.

"I am grateful you made the long trip out here for something so small, Yokozawa-san. We appreciate your company's consideration, and it may be that we choose to prominently display their product. Please work hard and produce something worthy of the spotlight."

"I think you'll come to find that Marukawa puts out only diamonds as far as publications go."

"I am pleased to hear so, but will, of course, be even more pleased to _see_ these lovely diamonds you extoll."

Yokozawa gritted his teeth. "Of course," he agreed forcibly.

Yokozawa had gathered that the man had to be thoughtful to run a successful outlet like his first store had been, and how this new location was shaping up to be, but Kirishima was turning out to be more than just thoughtful - he was downright _wily_. Working face-to-face with the man was sure to be a full-time job in itself because he, despite everything, possessed a heap of spunk. Even worse, it appeared he could play the game as expertly as anyone, with fire covered by a well-mannered front.

Challenges like this, however, brought out the best in the sales representative. Yokozawa was not afraid at the prospect of playing hardball if need be to get his product the promotion it deserved, and should the businessman seek to intimidate him, Kirishima-san would discover that he had a fierce opponent.

"Glad to see you agree with me. You're a reasonable man, I can tell. I like that. I do hope that I'll see more of you, Yokozawa." Kirishima's lips cambered to a different degree, and Yokozawa was perturbed enough by it to ignore the fact that 'san' had abruptly been dropped from his title until a few seconds after the fact. Fine. It was the least of his problems at this time.

"Once more, thank you for making the trip. I am sorry that it is for a meeting so short, but alas, I prefer person-to-person interaction. Better for understanding between the two parties, I believe. I am busy today, so I shall have to see you off, but I will consider your request. Arigato."

Kirishima held out one hand to shake, and Yokozawa controlled his annoyance and returned the gesture, gripping on firmly. Rebelliously he might have squeeze a little harder than was necessary to show his serious intentions.

All the while the entrepreneur revisited that flashy smile of earlier, which was the cherry on top of the headache Yokozawa felt brewing. To an extent he wasn't sure why this man seemed to get so under his skin - the contrast? The emotional state he had witnessed to this slick facade now. It was so artificial. Perhaps that was the blasted reason.

"Hmm. Cold hands, warm heart?" Kirishima ventured during, causing Yokozawa to end it near instantaneously. He felt his smile disintegrating, and the origins of a scowl forming up.

"I wouldn't know," he sufficed to say. 'None of your damned business, either.'

The worst aspect of this interchange was the response. Kirishima gazed upon him appraisingly before making it, his hazel hued eyes traveling over the dark-haired man, observing his measure.

"No, you wouldn't, would you?"

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_to be continued-_

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**A/N: **Yokozawa is so dreamy that I had to write a story about him and his lover, who is also very transcendent.

This is slightly AU in the sense that everyone doesn't have the same job necessarily, et al. You'll just have to see how it plays out. I hope I have managed to intrigue someone, and I would sincerely appreciate a review. I always take the time to respond back to them because if someone takes the time to write them, I think it's only appropriate to return the favor. :)

Title of this story comes from the song of the same name by the band Trapt.


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